mate friends, whose
evidence would have been without question and conclusive. She was living
in a school for young ladies: seen daily by the ladies who kept that
school, and by the pupils. In one of her letters to Mrs. Hall, she
writes, "I have lived nearly all my life, since childhood, with
the same people. The Misses Lance were strict, scrupulous, and
particular,--moreover, from having kept a school so long, with habits of
minute observation. The affection they feel for me can hardly be
undeserved. I would desire nothing more than to refer to their opinion."
Dr. Thomson, her constant medical friend and adviser, testified long
afterwards to her "estimable qualities, generous feelings, and exalted
virtues." It would, indeed, have been easy to obtain proof abundant; but
in such cases the very effort to lessen the evil augments it; there was
no way of fighting with a shadow; it was found impossible to trace the
rumor to any actual source. Few then, and perhaps none now, can tell how
deeply the poisoned arrow entered her heart. If ever woman was, Laetitia
Landon was, "done to death by slanderous tongues."

I have touched upon this theme reluctantly,--perhaps it might have been
omitted altogether,--but it seems to me absolutely necessary, in order
to comprehend the character of the poet towards her close of life, and
the secret of her marriage, which so "unequally yoked" her to one
utterly unworthy.

Here is a passage from one of her letters to Mrs. Hall,--without a
date,--but it must have been written in 1837, when she was suffering
terribly under the blight of evil tongues:--

"I have long since discovered that I must be prepared for enmity I have
never provoked, and unkindness I have little deserved. God knows, that,
if, when I do go into society, I meet with more homage and attention
than most, it is dearly bought. What is my life? One day of drudgery
after another; difficulties incurred for others, which have ever pressed
upon me; health, which every year, by one severe illness after another,
shows is taxed beyond its strength; envy, malice, and all
uncharitableness: these are the fruits of a successful literary career
for a woman."

She was slow to believe that false and bitter words could harm her. At
first they seemed but to inspire her with a dangerous bravery in her
innocence, and to increase a practice we always deplored, of saying
things for effect in which she did not believe. It was no use telling
her thi